


Just a dream

by DramaQueenJean



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: F/F, F/M, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-08
Updated: 2015-12-13
Packaged: 2018-04-19 19:41:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4758524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DramaQueenJean/pseuds/DramaQueenJean
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's hard to wake up from a nightmare when you aren't sleeping.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> There are going to be horrible things happening in this first chapter. And at least twice the amount of good things. Stay tuned.  
> -DQJ

"Oh. The Navigation system says there is a shortcut there, we will be there faster ." Yes faster in Jinae, a city I never wanted to move to. I was fine in Trost. Perfectly fine to be exact. I had a nice boyfriend. Awesome friends. A puppy. And I had to leave it all there to move to the shittiest dump of a city called Jinae. And it of course has the fucking ocean next to it. Perfect for people like me who suffer from Aqua-phobia. Thanks dad.  
"Jean, dear should we take a shortcut?"  
"Mom I could not care less wether we arrive in the hell that is going to be my life from now on faster or at the time the navi calculated without the shortcut." I know it sounds harsh but it's the truth. I honestly don't care, my life is over anyway. "Shortcut it is then." 

So we take the shortcut. Oh look a truck. Wait is it on our side of the road. It is. Dad. Dodge. Dodge. Dodge. "Fu-" We collide.

And everything goes black. Guess this is the end of the road, huh? And all I could think of was a shitty joke is probably what you are thinking right now. Isn't it? You are probably saying " For gods sake you are dying and this is the best thing you could come up with?" Something like that yeah? Well welcome to my live. Or not. I mean I'm dead, so welcome to my death. I'm still as shitty at making good jokes at hard times as I was when alive. Pathetic. Mom and Dad aren't going to miss me at all. Why should they. Wait. Am I hearing sirens? Are those sirens? I think they are. Yes they are sirens. I'm not dead. I can apologize and make all the things better that I've done wrong. i can apologize to mom. I can-

"oor boy. What a horrible thing to happen at such a young age." What? Where am I? " Dr. Schultz do you think he will wake up again?" Wake up again what? Could someone PLEASE explain to me what the fuck is going on? " I do think he will wake up at some point but I doubt it will be tod-"

"M-my head...uuurgh" My head feels like it is splitting into a million pieces. "He is awake."

"He is awake!" What the ever loving fuck are you so happy about? His smile is as bright as the artificial light in this room. "Hey, where are my parents?" His smile vanished. He looks sad. So, so sad. Why? This can't be a good thing.  
The door opens and two middle aged man step into the room.  
"Your parents are dead." The blonde man says. "Dr. Bossard there are many friendlier and kinder ways to tell someone something like this." Now it's the black haired talking. "I couldn't care less Gunther." The blonde aga- wait what? "My parents are ....dead?"  
"I'm afraid yes. I don't know if it helps but they didn't have to suffer any pain. They were dead immediately. It doesn't help does it?" Dead. Dead. Dead. Why? Why me? Why? What have I done to deserve this?

Everything is moving the walls are closing in on me. No. No! Help me. Mom. Dad. Somebody. Please. I scream. I scream so loud it feels like my eardrums are bursting. Help me. Please. Wake me up. This has to be a dream. Please tell me it's a dream. 

It's not a dream, is it? 

I didn't realize I was still screaming until two arms were wrapped around me. Holding me.  
Of course I started crying. Who wouldn't in a situation like this. I lost everything I had. 

Everything. 

"Please calm down. Please. I know you are hurting but screaming won't make the pain go away trust me," a voice much calmer than I have ever heard said. It sounds so warm and calm. So beautiful. Please keep talking. " I never had anything like this happen to me. The closest person I lost was my grandma and I was only six at that time, so I have no idea how you feel right now. But if you have anything you need to say I will listen. I promise."

I just cry. Just cry in the arms of a person I have never met before. And in those arms, I feel like everything will be alright. I can think straight. But then they leave.

Why does everything that feels secure or like home leave me? Why am I alone? Why?  
I'm scared. So scared. Scared of what will happen now or tomorrow. In a week, a month or a year. I'm scared because I know that whatever happens I will be alone with it. Alone. 

"I want to die. Please. Kill me." I don't want to be alone anymore. Not anymore more. Please just end it here, I can't stand this suffering anymore. Please.

"Don't say things like that. You are going through a difficult phase, yes. But there will always be things worth living for. But only if you stay alive."  
"And who are you to talk?" I shouldn't be snarling at someone who is trying to help me. But I do it anyways.  
He pouts, "I am Marco Bodt. A Psychologist. I was called here to help you deal with your loss."  
"How old are,you you don't look older than me," I only ask because he honestly looks like he just started college. "Twenty-five." 

"Okay. So, Dr. Bodt. How do I deal with my loss. And I am pretty sure that you know that I lost quite a lot. In a very short period of time. So tell me." As if he could help me in anyway. My life is over.

"Well there are many ways to deal with pain. Most people express themselve with art. Art doesn't only mean drawing it can mean many things. They are mainly things for which you need your creativity. I heard from friends of yours that you enjoy writing a lot yes?"

How the fuck does he know that? Wait friends? " Do you mean Connie and Sasha?"  
How would he know them, did he fucking stalk my Facebook or some shit like that?  
Whatever I don't even care anymore I'm going to die anyway so what is there to care about. It's not like he would change anything and neither will they.

I am dying. I always was. Always will. There is no light in my life, nothing to enjoy.  
Ah. A knock on the door. It opens. A tall man comes into the room. I don't care. He is talking to me, whatever. "Oh, how rude of me I still didn't introduce myself. My name is Berthold Fubar. I'm a Doctor at this hospital and I will be looking after you for the time you are here. I have looked at the x-Ray that they took of your head and it seems you have a slight skull fracture, but nothing we can't fix and-Why should you fix it I don't want to live anymore. Just let me die," I cut him off mid-sentence. The look he gives me makes me sick, he looks as if he understands my pain. I know he doesn't, he is a doctor he has to do it. But not here just stop. Leave. Let me die. Mr. Sunshine over there is enough annoyance a day.  
"I know what you think. 'He acts like he knows how I feel even though he doesn't' right? Trust me, I've been there. The exact same spot. But not with broken bones. Second to third degree burns. All over my body. And I was lucky with those, really lucky. So I do know how you feel. How you think. I was there and thought the same. Please let me die. My mother and father are dead. Were should I go now. I know that. But guess what. I kept on living. And am now married to an amazing man, successful at work and the proud father of little girl. I really don't mean to brag. I just want you to know that even when things seem dark there is always a light. You just need to open your eyes and find it.  
Please think about that. I will return soon with some medication." 

After he left I just sat there, completely stunned. Mouth hanging open until someone chuckled. "He is quite a talker isn't he?" Your one to talk mister psychologist. Haha get it talk? Forget it. "Was he lying?" He has got to be lying. Right? "No he wasn't. I know him since I was five. We were kindergarten friends. It really happened, all of it."

Maybe my life isn't as worthless as I thought it was. But maybe I'm wrong.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am very happy that you people read my story thank you for clicking on it.  
> There will be a ton of Jean the emotional wreck.  
> Now don't get me wrong. He'll get better. But slowly.
> 
> Also Marco is a liar?

I was wrong. As always I was wrong. I want to die, still. Even if Mr. Sunshine over there tries to tell me it's only a phase. It isn't it can't be. He doesn't know what he is talking about. I hate him.

"So Jean how are we today?" Same question as every other FUCKING day.

"I'm miserable, alone and depressed. What about you?" Sorry not sorry. I have no patience for sunny boys like you, Marco. Tch. You piss me off. Just leave I mean uuuhhg.

"Why do you even Want to know?" I almost shout. I'm just so done with everyones bullshit.

"Because I care about you." Bullshit. I call that bullshit. The only thing he cares about is his bank account. Like everybody else. The doctors, nurses, my father and everybody else. Money. That is the only thing people care about nowadays. Money and nothing else. Well maybe looks but let's be honest that shit isn't any better. Since we are talking about looks, I look like shit. Not brown or .... green for those weird people. But absolutely horrible pale, thin and ...broke. But how else should I look? Happy and whole. How? I would look it if I knew how because it would mean the doctor would shut up. But I can't what ever I do I can't.

"Well anyway, the nurses told me that you are losing weight which doesn't make sense to them since your plate is always empty when they come to pick it up. Do you know why?" Oh my god that question, is he serious? "No I don't know anything about that." I lie While rolling my eyes. As if It wasn't fucking obvious. Of course I know. Oh my gosh. 

"I have the feeling you aren't completely honest with me here." Alright that settles it. I will murder him in his sleep. 

"Oh my fucking God I threw the shitty hospital food out of the window Jesus Christ. What is your problem? Wait why am I telling you this? No! Fuck you didn't hear anything." Of course he did, he heard everything and put it on his note bad. The notes. Oh I have just the plan. Insert evil laugh here.

"Oh wow what is that behind you?" He doesn't turn around but gives me a puzzled look. Why aren't you turning around. Bitch turn the fuck around. Fine then not. Guess I'll have to use force. So I jump on him. "Woah! What the-" We fall backwards with his chair and I grab the clipboard. And then I run. I run so fast. Holy hell I run all the way up to the cafeteria where I dispose of the evidence. I walk back to the room and am greeted with two angry looking doctors and a very, very confused looking Mr. Sunshine. And boy what a sight. He looks so hilarious. So I laugh. Which gives me a glare from him. Surprise, he can glare, didn't think that was possible. 

"What are you doing up and running around? Like this your wounds won't heal. Lay down." I am still laughing and wheezing. And then everything starts swimming. I fall.

The same hands that comforted me on the first day in the hospital are now holding me up. And I hate it. I hate feeling weak. But that is what I am now,weak. Weak. 

"Dad? I have to tell you something. Something important." I stutter a bit. But hey it's not like this is easy to talk about.

"What is it son?" As cold as ever, great. " Spit it out already. Don't waste my time with your stuttering nonsense."

"I-I think I might be I mean I'm not sure b-but it might-I mean it's possible but I wouldn't say it has to be that way-"he cuts me off"Jean stop stuttering! You know how much I hate it when you stutter. So out with it or leave my office." I'm so close to crying right now. 

"I think I might like guys," I whisper. It's out. I'm going to die. Oh god hes just staring at me. No. Please, don't. 

"What?" He sounds so calm. Way too calm. I know that when my father sounds this way, shit is going to go down.

" I said..." He just stares at me . No that isn't staring. That is a full blown glare, a mirderous one too. He is probably thinking about a good spot to hide my body" Nothing. I didn't say anything." I'm weak. Always was. Always will be.

Always.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Neheheheheee.... I'm sorry it took me like two flipping months to get back to this.  
> There was a lot of stuff bothering me.  
> And it's taken care of now so here I am.  
> *evil grin*  
> Enjoy~
> 
> -DQJ

"How are you today Jean?" Oh here we go again. 

"Well I had a fucking horrible nightmare, woke up in a cold sweat, the food was horrific and I am still an orphan with no friends and broken bones." I'm not even trying to hide my boredom anymore. And he still has the fucking nerv. The fucking nerv!

He looks at me to see if I want to say more or not and then decide that, no I do not want to say more, before he writes our "conversation" down on his notepad.

"Well then. Do you want to talk about anything? You know that this is what I'm here for right?" He smiles at me. One of those little and sad looking smiles. Even thougo I can't stand his smiles in general, I still hate these the most. 

\---------------------

The days go on and on like the first one. Mr. Sunshine comes, we "talk" which is more like me answering with the same amount of self pity in the answer as always, and then he asks me if I want to talk about my feelings and some such fuckery and then he leaves.

\---------------------

I don't know what I was thinking the day after the accident. I can't believe I actually thought that was the worst I could feel. Well as always I was wrong. This, right now, is the worst. Because I feel nothing. Absolutely nothing. I'm not sad or angry about how unfair it is to lose my parents. I'm not tired of all of this shit that happened in my life until now. I'm just here. I just exist. Sucked empty of any and all emotions. I have no cares left to give. It should scare me how I have given up. But I really can't bring myself to feel any such things as fear or sadness. Just emptiness. Complete emptiness. 

You would think that it would get better with time but it doesn't. I feel emptier everyday. I can practicaly feel everything gettimg sucked out of me. Like someone poked a straw right into me and is drinking up everything that was my existence leaving nothing but a hollow shell of my former self.

To be honest, I envy that Bert guy. He has so much after everything. I know he said I just need to "open my eyes and find my light" but how am I meant to do that? How does someone open their eyes and find their own personal sun? Because that is what I need. I need a sun to get out of this bullshit, a sun not some shitty little light. I know it sounds greedy but ,hey, that is exactly what I am. A greedy ungrateful bastard. Nothing knew really.

You would think my so called "friends" would give me a call or at least a message after the car crash made its way into the media But no. Nothing again. I'm alone after all.

Sometimes I really wonder what I did to be in this mess. I really do. 

\----------------------

I don't know why but for some reason I'm always wrong. Even when I say that I will always be lonely because just a few minutes later I hear loud wailing outside my door. The loud wailing stops and then two creatures come bursting threw my door. The creatures, I quickly identify as my two best friends Connie and Sasha, throw themselves on me and my still slightly broken bones. I wince. And then groan,which then alerts Connie who quickly gets off me. Sahsa on the other hand just proceeds to cry on me. She doesn't even get more out than a wail that is probably supposed to be my name.

We kind of just stay like that for a while until Sasha comes down to only sniffling every few seconds. Connie is the first to speak up.

"Hey man. We heard what-"I think he sees me looking away and gets what I'm too scared to say because he stops. Then Sasha speaks up. "We love you s-so much Jeanbo, so, so much. A-and we want you .... We want y-you to...-" she brakes off crying again. Connie finishes the sentence for her though. "Listen man what she is trying to say is we want you to know that we both love you a lot. And if you ever need something or someone to talk too, even if you just need to cry or scream or punch controller buttons until your fingers bleed then you can tell us. You are so important to the both of us. And we want to make sure your okay." 

You know the thing about these two is, while they seem like brash and loud people, they are so, so caring. When you need them they are there. And I'm realizing that. And I'm feeling it too, especially when Connie comes to my bed amd wraps me in a careful hug. Well careful considering this is Connie we are talking about.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Just so you aren't confused he blacked out again after Dr. Schultz started talking that is why it said that two middle aged man walk into the room. Because they left after he was gone again.


End file.
